I arrived from Madrid yesterday. Omama and I walk around the garden, she takes me among the flowers and points to each one with her cane. After these months of such sadness, I arrive here and feel happy and peaceful. Like a little girl.

It’s eight in the morning. My legs are fat and bulky. I don’t like myself. Seeing myself in pictures takes me back to a world of fear and anguish. A woman’s body. I want to feel good in my body again.

Vienna, April 30, 1992

We went to the doctor today. The building was ugly, dark. I went into the consulting room with Omama and she undressed nearby. The doctor called me over and made me touch her breast. A big, hard ball deformed it. I became scared. He said to me, It’s big isn’t it? I touched her, hugged her. She seemed so small and fragile.